PS 3505 
.0485 
08 
1914 
Copy 1 



OUR OWN— 

Among the Hills 



These treasured series of facts, from 
the author's actual life, are intended 
to suggest the varying trinity of real 
or abstract incidents which invade 
the real of one's own existence 
— corresponding, in symbolism or 
experience, with 

VOCATION, OUR OWN, MEMORY. 




IT IS DAY— the first of the third month Con- 
chubor comes from a potential state into 
new life. The truths and secrets of ocean, 
earth, firmament give constant interest; creat- 
ures of water, wood, air, much pleasure; sunshine, 
rain, snow, equal value and delight — for, what in 
Nature is not good? At times he climbs the 
mountains, hunts the forests, fishes the streams — 
takes from the storms their energy and reads 
tidings in the heights. 




n& 



a I 



AMONG THE 



BY 



CONCHUBOR 

Author of "Old Man Thompson"; 
" ONY" — of The Mountains; Our 
House of Jack; The White Doe "Col- 
leen Bawn"; Abenaki Indian Legend 
— on Fact and in fate. 

Also the man who discovered the 
Celtic Snow Cross on Mount Washing- 
ton, White P</!ountains, New Hamp- 
shire — see " House of Jack. " 




COPYRIGHT, 1914 

By DANIEL P. CONNOR, 
Manchester, N. H". 



IT IS OUR OWN. Conchubor views a 
happy and sad being of Our House 
Of it is a mother, Julia (Twomey: 
Leary-Scaunell-Connor); you, relative or 
friend— also every fact of Vocation, Love, 
Memory, etc. 

For, is it not the truth of Our Day, 
World, Time, the continued Story of 
Sorrow and Delight, which Nature and 
Life offer the rest of mankind? 

DANIEL P. CONNOR. 
Manchester, N. H., 1914. 



OEC 28 1914 
5ci,A38895 






Our Own — Among the 

oA VOCATION 

IT is the tiny happenings which reflect 
the human heart and manifest its work- 
ings in grief and joy. With this con- 
viction you are respectfully invited to 
a town's suburbs, in the White Moun- 
tains; and a happy ideal — of uncertain 
destiny. To fully appreciate juvenile am- 
bition, either in the psychologic or humorous 
sense, you must consider the habits and 
customs of a picturesque state's country 
population, and the serious problem of pro- 
ductive value among the hills — where there 
may be frost each month of the year. A 
spirit of industry instinctively influences the 
mental and social life of the community. 
It stands guardian over peopleand purpose — 
has an ethical potancy. Thus understood, 
you know, in a way, the thrifty, hardy folk 
of America's Switzerland. " To obtain a 
truer grasp and juster view of the case on 
hand, you must have, other than a passive 
analysis of the home's kinship and a youth- 
ful character's environment. My little 



Folio 4] Our Own— Among the Hius 

friend resided with parents, and the rest, 
on a small farm, facing the Franconia 
Range. The place was very near the 
" wisdom box" — attended. At the west- 
ern entrance of a mountainous divide there 
lived, in homestead and annex, offspring 
galore-^also a man worthy of special men- 
tion for the merited compliment of, ' know- 
in' more about herbs, and that sort a 
thing, than any one 'round this section." 
The moral and scientific bearing of 
numbers, on New Hampshire's fame for 
producing sixty geniuses to every thousand 
in population, interest less than that there 
was an exception to the present family 
average at all three households. As geo- 
graphic distance increased the sum of rela- 
tives did likewise, not alone in commendable 
numbers, but an hospitably famous degree 
of affectionate clan loyalty. Then for 
weeks, and even months at a time, the 
subject's entire branch would be absent, on 
continuous visiting" trips, to those of their 
genealogical line; scattered throughout the 
vicinity. Such regular action caused no more 
local surprise than the bag and baggage ex- 



Our Own — Among the Hills [Folio 5 

change of aunts, uncles and cousins — in re- 
turn favor and fondness. This established 
order may be likened to the permanency of 
scene in the paradise of natural charm — for 
we are treating pioneer settlers. Now it is 
easy to imagine what occasions of constant 
gaiety were to a child. First class, indeed, 
were memories of good things and dreams 
of delight. Trained for a high grade of fun 
one expects a change in the practical ideas of 
normal sense; and a consequent abandon- 
ment of wise regard for necessary and 
traditional choice. 

So I come to the fall of 1907, and the 
experience of a day's volunteer teaching at 
the A. D. School, on "Crow Hill." Four 
girls and five boys were in attendance at the 
time. When questioned as to their vocation- 
al tendencies the scholars selected profes- 
sion and position involving useful service 
or honorable office, save the one on whom 
thought centers. Being asked: "'What are 
you going to do when you grow up and leave 
school?" Replied, in the sincerity of cher- 
ished initiation and pleasant hope: "I'm 
a goin' a visitin' ! " 



Folio 6] Our Own — Among the Hills 

OURj> OWN 

Our analysis begins amid the rural glory 
of a charming town in eastern Massachu- 
setts; at a homestead, once the historic 
Abenaki Inn, Ponkaboag. The place nes- 
tles at the western base of the Blue Hills — 
a modest introduction to the exiled White 
Mountains. As sunrise kisses frosty, beau- 
tiful summits, in March, 1913, a shadow is 
cast over the home; symbolizing the death 
which robed a House in sorrow — Our 
Sorrow. 

At the other side of the picturesque bar- 
rier, on the nearest peak of which rests 
the "Bay State's" artistic weather Obser- 
vatory, is the classic city of Boston, with 
its population of 670,585. 

Here figure links struggle and retirement 
of a former, as the ' welcomed" peace of 
the Canton cemetery now offers the lesson 
and inspiration of another day — Our day. 

At the age of eighty-eight, weighing two 
hundred ten pounds, a venerable owner 
reaches the border-land of his silent lot 
— which he was wont to call "my farm' ' — 
with faculties and senses true. Now grave- 
stones are alters erected to the worship 
of decay, so look to fairer features. That 



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Our Own — Among the Hills [Folio 7 

he never met a man, read an article, or 
saw a face in his life but what he remem- 
bered, was often tested — even strikingly 
verified during his fatal illness. This evid- 
ence of remarkable memory has an inter- 
esting associate point of view, when one 
learns that practically all his engaged duties 
were in a single position — with cousins of 
a living Ex-President of the United States. 
His gracious, but responsible service, 
brought him in personal contact with most 
every noted — native and foreign — public 
character of the past generation. The at- 
tractive detail he cited, for friendly enter- 
tainment, may be imagined. 

There is, however, transmitions of a 
different kind, wherein universal heritage 
gives the best of each for all the present 
world — Our World. The typical exper- 
ience of original men and women is pic- 
tured in his courage. He was a pioneer — 
the first of his line to come to this country.* 
The chapters of success, affection and gra- 
titude are portrayed in the poetic reflections 

* He left Ireland the day Daniel O'Connell died — 
iu whose company he was five different times. 



Folio 8] Our Own — Among the Hills 

and force of the stanzas, written on the deck 
of the steamship Samaria, November 26th, 
1872, as he was about to sail, a second 
time, for "home'' — Cork, Ireland. 

TO MOTHER, FRIENDS AND 
IRELAND. 

Meet we again for one more friendly greeting, 
Shake we each other once more by the hand; 
Quickly to quickly the moments will be 

fleeting, 
When broken and shattered must soon be our 

band. 

Friends I shall meet there, whose friendship 

shall never 
Cease 'till the current of life flows no more. 
Seas may divide us, but never shall sever, 
Hearts that beat true to our dear Erin's shore. 



TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 

Foudlv I think of the place I am leaving, 
Boldly I seek what the future may give, 
Knowing and strength I have here been 

receiving. 
God grant us all that we know how to live. 

Onward we march then, with shoulder to 

shoulder, 
And bravely to meet what life has in store; 
With blood flowing quicker, and hearts beating 

bolder, 
As we remember Our Own— dear Erin's shore. 



Our Own — Among the Hii^s [Folio 9 

This intermingling of faith, patriotism, 
friendship, pleasure and gloom we pass, 
for a profitable estimate of manhood, ser- 
vice and time — Our Time. 

Wandering still, throngh years and wis- 
dom, we come to age recognized, not so 
much in the length of years as their reason- 
ableness and just proportion, which gives 
it proper interpretation. Here we exper- 
ience sadness and cheer. The former we 
mourn as a race, and, as a people, are now 
invited to the latter by our friend. Strol- 
ling leisurely along we notice that he lives, 
not tells his story — Our Story. The un- 
folding teaches us to seek the relation of 
things, for it compensates for the loss of 
youthful gifts and blessings. We find him 
in touch with the vital state of affairs by not 
neglecting essential detail. He makes lone- 
some, yet traditionally beautiful, annual 
calls on families near in blood. Such oc- 
casions meant ' sweet" things for the 
children; while each marriage inspired a 
special visit, and its more substantial present 
in gold — always of equal amount. 



Folio 10] Our Own — Among the Hills 

Do standards and ideals appear? Yes! 
which, like the colored glass in the little 
mountain chapel, Our Lady of the Snows, 
vary in simple charm but change not with 
the light of succeeding days. They shine 
in fundamental detatchment, yet produce 
an harmonious whole- Neither do they 
darken the hours or ambition, where good 
things exist. Rather offer instinctive in- 
fluence, and allow a clearer view of safer 
ground beyond. If anything mars this field 
we should understand, for, there is fault of 
judgment. Nevertheless, who knows but 
what we survey a better land from our 
doubtful summit. At least we have a finer 
vision, because we have made our own as- 
cent. At this uncertain height our com- 
panion is near. He points to the broader 
horison, in a way which gives encourage- 
ment. Since, in seeking much there is a 
tendency to concentrate on future endeavor 
and achievement; particulars of delight — 
Our Delight. 

As the grand old guide bids a descent we 
turn from the bewildering vastness of the 
past, and find that he has taken the trail to 
the present. 



Our Own — Among the Hii^ls [Folio 11 

In the feeling of fading aloftness we are 
informed that what we have left is one with 
the path travelled, and the future. 

If a complex mental state follows this 
revelation, he assures you that advanced age 
shall convince you of the transitoriness of 
humanity. In example we are taught, that 
the greatest conscious interest is the indivi- 
dual part we have to perform. 

Our real world is that of immediate opin- 
ion and environment; made so by the re- 
vealed connection of all forms of manifest 
life — Our Life. 

Success is in proportion to the adjustment 
of our own to that of the majority, of the 
one; its perpetuity, to the largest taking, 
from the other, of nature's secrets. We 
are convinced that it is a personal mat- 
ter. He directs us to a knowledge of hum- 
an beings and the external world — Our 
World. There scene and science enlight- 
en as to the closeness of the inter-related 
scheme of Nature. Then, as the grey of 
eve' n steals o'er our little Hills, the noble 
old man takes an everlasting farewell. So 
we are consigned to the guardianship of 
all men — akin to Our Own. 



Folio 12] Our Own— Among the Hills 



zA cTVIEMORY 



In the realm of dreamland the mystic awak- 
ening of personality exists in a transitory 
miracle of glorious nothingness, with its sad 
or happy oblivion. In the functional activ- 
ity of normal human life and sense there is a 
will, which gives it a real quality. But how 
agreeably unlike the active and passive states 
of a common being. Tee phenomenon of 
creation in one is unknowu, unfanthomable; 
in the other the conscious, voluntary domin- 
ation of a wonderful faculty governs the mys- 
tery of introspection to the extent of allowing 
the double pleasure of choice recollection. 

So today, inspired by numerous forms in the 
trees near my home, I recall, through this 
second, the first visit of these "birds of pass- 
age" — or better, passing good — and a few of 
the native kind, whom a reasonable public 
gratefully remember for practically effecting 

* The author wrote this for The Manchester 
' >7. H.) Union, in which it appeared, Feb. 18th, 190R. 
The comment of the editor at that time is insert- 
ed simply to complete the fact's detail. It was as 
follows : "As an example of pure English, and as a 
gem in the art of graphic composition, The Obser- 
vant Citizen submits a communication recently re- 
ceived, which deals with a subject of interest to 
Manchester people. The editor of this column has 
not expunged a word, fearing to lose the clearness 
of style which permeates the letter. Space is gladly 
afforded for the communication in order that readers 
of the eolumn may absorb a better style for their 
• i! tnnnications in the future. 



Our Own — Amomg the Htlls [Folio 13 

nature's balance in the local attack of spread- 
ing, expensive, troublesome brown-tail moth 
pest—ably assisted by the gypsy species— which 
was accidentally (?) ousted on an innocent 
people, from a Massachusetts professor's im- 
ported collection of insects, some six or seven 
years ago. 

The negative benefit may be imaginatively 
estimated in the preservation of beauty's nat- 
ural life, and correlative human comfort and 
happiness. 

Circumstances causes a person to reflect on 
the mystery of insect mind, which may hold 
to ours the same relation as finite does to infi- 
nite intellect. 

Take the inanimate order of things. I pick 
a beautiful bouquet to present a dear friend, or 
better, to brighten and scent the sick-room. 

The flowers should not ask the reason. They 
have no right to seal their destiny. So in life's 
estates; to be, or not to be, are justly beyond 
the prerogatives of individual control. But 
away with abstract thoughts, and let me again 
enjoy the incidents which made singularly 
happy a term of time on May 2, 1907, p. m. 

Welcome the facts and humor which con- 
cern the problems of a "gang" of eight climb- 
ers, "bug men;" an incident of recreation, 
wherein wholesome initiative and good will 
gave that ideal condition — mutual fellowship 
of democratic equality. Seated on the long 



Folio 14] Our Own — Among the Hu.ivS 

terraced wooden steps, built from the river 
road to the Boston and Maine railroad tracks, 
for the accommodation of the foot passengers, 
and which are situated about forty yards above 
the old covered wooden bridge at Amoskeag 
falls, I was living in the present and past de- 
lights of fascinating, poetic environment. 

Presently my attention was attracted by 
voices from the branches of the two largest of 
the half dozen trees, which, with the combi- 
nation hand-car and tool-house so familiarly 
associated with the section-hand help of the 
steam railroad system, occupy the triangular 
space formed by river bank and track bed. 

It proved to be an advance guard of two, ad- 
dressing — from the highway — their compa- 
nions, who were just emerging from the east 
side of the above mentioned structure. Then, 
possibly for my edification, certainly my plea- 
sure, came an amount of comical observations. 

Revelling thus in the pastime of "bugtalk" 
they all came, finally, in the satisfactory order 
of coercive choice, to the treefartherest north; 
overhanging the bank and the dirty, treach- 
erous spring flood of the Merrimack. Those 
carrying the extension ladder, needed in the 
work, slowly lowered it to the ground and leis- 
urely seated themselves at either end of the 
now comfortable height. In assembled criti- 
cal enjoyment the crowd watched a character 
nicknamed who was situated in an 



Our Own — Among the Hills [Folio 15 

easy crotch of this tree. He glanced signifi- 
cantly at his fellow workmen, as the hook- 
shaped knife end of his sixteen-foot pole accu- 
rately fell on the branch which held the last 
brown tail moth's nest of this clump. 

The impervious cobweb affair, two by two 
inches in size and containing, I suppose, the 
average 600 eggs, fell — when the levers, with 
handle at the lower of the pole, were operated, 
and the blade end did its regular work. The 
nest had barely struck the water, to soon dis- 
appear like a melting snowflake in the mad 
current, when the serious, commanding ap- 
peal came : "Will somebody please rescue 
those moths before they drown?" 

D. P. C. 



A TEACHER'S LETTER 



"If may interest you to know that my Eng- 
lish Class memorized and explained, to the 
best of their several abilities, the little para- 
graph condensing and revealing many truths, 
pleasures and benefits of all creation: 'For 
what in Nature is not good?' " 



THE AUTHOR'S ANSWER 



"If teachers everywhere would take the ques- 
tion's negative infinity and develop its positive 
value, as you have beautifully done and the 
fact be aided by a system to promote its end 
indefinitely, the world would become, in time, 
a paradise of enlightment, peace, plenty, ins- 
tead of a prison of truth. From one viewpoint 
you have sensed the soul, not aloneof the story, 
but science — which is the wisdom of Nature 
in its infancy." 






■ 



J'y v.. 



■ '/■■■ v ^ 




W 



CHARLES VAUGHAN, 

OUR OWN 

"UNCLE CHARLES" 

1825—1913 



The first of his genealogical line to come 
to the United States. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

IIIllliillliliiliillllL 

018 602 716 4 




